


Angels Fuck, Devils Kiss

by sapphiczule



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: Dark Fantasy, F/F, Smut with a plot, hall-oh-week, human!macarena, succubus!zulema, zulema is a sex demon and macarena wants to sleep with danger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27195101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphiczule/pseuds/sapphiczule
Summary: Macarena’s eyes switch between Zulema’s eyes and lips. She leans closer, subconsciously.“What happens when you kiss me?”“Let’s come upstairs and I’ll show you.”ORThe succubus/human zurena AU for #hallohweek.
Relationships: Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir, Zulema Zahir/Macarena Ferreiro
Comments: 28
Kudos: 109





	Angels Fuck, Devils Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Some of this was loosely inspired by the show Lost Girl. 
> 
> This is my first attempt at writing fantasy, so bear with me. This work is part of the Putas Ratas GC “Hall-oh-week”. Check out the full week’s schedule here: https://twitter.com/sapphiczule/status/1320017627910111232?s=21
> 
> Let the halloween shenanigans begin ✨

**_“They yearn for what they fear for.”_ **

_Dante Alighieri, John Ciardi (1954). ‘The Inferno’, Signet._

It’s not easy being a demon living amongst humans.

Zulema knew that, from the moment she chose to leave the Order, the luxuries of being taken care of would disappear. For heavenly and demoniacal creatures, they sure do have an unbearable amount of politics involved in their daily life, even more so than the mundane human. The world in which the raven-haired beauty – and what a terrific beauty – resided from was not so different from the human world, all mysticalness aside. They had their own sort of political divisions where the territory, physical and meta, was divided into the hand of two main groups, Light and Dark. _Cliché,_ as per described by the Zulema through all her life.

Like all clichés go, creatures on the “Light” side were supposedly good as their first and primal virtue, and were not to, in any case, kill or harm any human or fellow superhuman if not for feeding purposes. The “Dark” side was, by default, fundamentally unvirtuous. Well, not totally. As far as killing and torturing goes, the dark respected the boundaries of the light side, and ironically, friendly fire was the only one allowed. Better to kill your own than to start a war. At the end of the day, the only things light and dark came to agree upon was that it was forbidden to attack the opposite side and that humans were inferior creatures, and therefore, were not to be engaged with any other intention other than feeding or using them as servants. As far as it should concern the mortal world, fairly creatures don’t exist. Amortality really puts things into perspective.

Zulema Zahir was born into a family line of sex demons from the dark side, and as tradition goes, whether you’re light or dark gets decided by whose family you’re born into. _So much for free will._ Zulema always hated being dark. Not that she was good at heart by that matter. She simply always hated being told what to do, and even more so the concept of a world seen in black and white. All the diplomatic bullshit and rules to follow never sat well inside herself. The woman in her teenage years came to learn that humans could be quite fun – and could actually be more than simple objects. Little by little, Zulema found herself enjoying the mortal world much more than her own; how is it that such inferior creatures can have so much fun and give so little fucks about the world? _Must be the life spam of a mosquito thing_ , Zule thinks to herself. Oddly enough, she finds that the own fragility of human life that makes them so pathetic on the eyes of every non-human creature is exactly what allows them to enjoy life so much more. Isn’t it ironic? The more time you know you have to live, the more monotonous your life becomes.

_What harm is it, just when you are kissing your little child, to say: Tomorrow you will die?_

The phrase from the Stoic philosopher Epictetus says much about the insight humans have that the prospect of death can make our lives much happier than they would otherwise be. The simple flickering thought that someday you’re going to die or that someone you love is going to die is fuel enough to allow life to fully **be.** Count philosophy in on one of the many things Zulema finds it fascinating about the human world. Their ability to reflect on their own mortality and make science out of it. What better company to a party than someone that lives with the fear of knowing that tomorrow might not exist? Zulema always felt that eternal life was ill fitting of her. She needed more. She needed something to make her want to live. Humans showed her the way.

Needless to say, Zulema reached a point where she had to make a choice. Cut ties to the humans or cut ties with her own. The latter was a no brainer – the mortal world was, ultimately, the only place where she could truly have freedom. Of course, it didn’t come easy. The woman had to learn how to go about on the world, and how to make a living like most humans do. She can’t say the latter was a difficult one to solve, however. Like most sex demons, Zulema had the power to control every living human by the touch of her hand. A brush of her fingers on someone’s forearm was all it took for her to get a job everywhere she wanted to. With the right doors opened to her, it didn’t take long for Zulema to reach success. It’s neither magic nor an enchantment: it’s simply energy control.

Humans describe energy in multiple different ways: western cultures as vigor, life, spirit, passion, power, and electromagnetism. The Hindus call the vital energy prana. The Hebrew name for "vital energy" is ruah. The Chinese define energy as life force, or chi. Whatever you name it or perceive it, it all virtuously comes down to the same thing. All human beings have a vital energy that is, essentially, what keeps them alive. It can be manipulated to all sorts of different outcomes: demons that feed on fear, for instance, can manipulate it so the human gets consumed entirely by the feeling. Chaos gods, on the other hand, manipulate it so humans are consumed by mistrust and destructive tendencies.

Sex demons, like Zulema, had the power to manipulate that energy to turn it into pure lust and desire towards herself. A touch of her hand makes them smitten, easily manipulable, and ready to eat. In all meanings, for that matter. A kiss is all it takes for Zulema to suck the vital energy away from their bodies and into herself, flows of blue energy leaving the human’s body and entering her own. She needed it to stay preserved in her form like people need air to breathe. And sex? Well, if we call kissing the everyday meal, sex was the whole feast.

“Oye Zule, I’m home!” A female’s voice cuts through the atmosphere, making the brunette stand up from her laying position on the couch to look at the figure walking through her front door. Zulema looks at the clock striking 8:30 at night.

“Compulsory extra shift again?”

“I am **_this_** close to filing a complaint to HR about Mr. Hernandez. He thinks what, just because he doesn’t have a life that means we don’t have one was well? If he makes our department work late hours next Friday one more time, I swear to you, I’m doing it.”

Saray drops her bag and trench coat on the coat closet next to the entrance to their home, dropping a pink box on the kitchen aisle and plopping down onto a seat as she opens it up and grabs a donut from the inside. 

“I bought us donuts, by the way.”

Zulema makes her way into the kitchen as well, opening the fridge and taking out a bottle of merlot. She fills two glasses with the red liquid, bringing one of them to Saray as she sits in front of her on the counter and takes a sip of her own.

“I don’t think filing an HR complaint so close to the end of the year is the best move right now. He _is_ the company director, you know. If it ends badly this could affect your bonus. If he’s not respectful of work hours, who knows what else he could mess with.”

“Easy for you to say, Ms. Big-Shot-Art-Dealer Zahir. You literally have zero problems at work.” Saray scoffs, taking a big sip of her glass. Zulema chuckles.

“Yeah, but you know I’m right about this.”

“Yeah…I know. Fuck off.”

Zulema erupts into a laugh, to which Saray follows. She and the woman had known each other for more than 10 years by now, and she knew since the moment they met they would have been inseparable. And well… mostly because Saray made it impossible to.

_Friday night. The moon is almost full. The nightclub in downtown Brooklyn is crowded with people radiating alcohol and sexual desire through every single pore on their skin while the music blasts so loud that you can feel it vibrating on your body, and it’s slowly driving Zulema insane. She was hungry._

_As she always does, Zulema would feed off the energy of more than one person as to avoid reaching the point of killing. Not because of some big moral compass that compelled Zulema to preservation of human life, but because a body trail isn’t exactly the smartest thing to have when you’re a demon living amongst humans. She would distribute her hunger into smaller but constant meals, like a human in a strict diet. Nightclubs where the best place to do so – the place was crowded, and the people too horny and drunk to care about someone sucking your face away. Whenever she’d find a prey she thought was her favorite, she’d take them home._

_She was about to make her first move of the night on a woman sitting by the bar, but a long-haired brunette seemed to beat her to it. She observed as the woman makes a sign to the male bartender to bring two of whatever poison she chose for them, which arrived in no time. She brought her attention back to the room, looking for another target to prey on._

_As the night went by, Zulema made her way outside the back entrance to smoke a well-needed cigarette, but something in her peripheral vision made her stop halfway on her tracks. She hides herself behind the wall of the corridor just on her left, and peeks an eye to find the same bartender from earlier in the night dragging the long-haired brunette from before by the arm, and by the way the woman’s body hanged more than stood, she knew there was definitely something wrong._

_“Hijo de puta.” Zulema murmured to herself, realizing that he probably drugged the poor woman while serving her drinks. The raven-haired demon waits until the duo reached the back-entrance door making their way out and followed through right after. She reached them just in time to see the man shoving Saray on the back of his car, and she whistles loudly to draw his attention._

_“Oye, big guy. Didn’t get a chance to tell you tonight that I have a huge thing for guys like you.” She said, eyebrow cocked and hands inside the pockets of her pants._

_“Oh yeah? And what type of guy am I, ‘big girl’?” The man steps closer in a predatory move, in an intent to impose himself and intimidate Zulema. She laughs internally. **There’s nothing stupider than an overly confident straight man.**_

_“The rapist type. Makes it so much more pleasant for me to kill you.”_

_Before the man even had a chance to respond, Zulema’s fast reflexes grabbed the bartender by the throat, squeezing it violently hard as she sealed his fate with a kiss that allowed her to drain all his vital energy away. His body slowly faded to nothingness, until it dropped on the ground like waste. Zulema made her way to the back of the car where the girl lied between consciousness and unconsciousness and carried her to her own car and drove home._

_Zulema knew the next day would be full of questions from Saray once she woke up. You don’t open your eyes in a complete stranger’s home without wanting some explanation. What Zulema didn’t expect was the questions the now fully awake woman threw at her way._

_“What the fuck are you? Did you eat that guys face? Are you going to eat mine?”_

_All to which Zulema responded:_

_“I didn’t ‘eat anyone’s face’. You must be confused from the drug he gave you. I did fight him though.”_

_After explaining and reasoning and explaining some more, Zulema got Saray to calm down and to almost believe that nothing happened last night. Almost. Saray grabbed her phone to check her messages, stumbling upon a video she recorded while she hanged on her consciousness by a thread that clearly showed Zulema sucking the life away from her aggressor. She looked at Zulema again, eyes shot open and mouth agape. The older woman sighs._

_“Stupid human phones with camera.”_

After a pill and some chamomile tea and an entire afternoon, Zulema came to tell the entire tale of her existence to Saray, which sealed their bond together. Zulema needed to flee cities because she knew last night’s murder would catch up to her, and almost like it was fate, Saray told her that she wasn’t from New York. She was from Madrid.

_“Come with me. Start over there and stay with me. It’s the least I can do after you saved my life.”_

And just like that, Zulema started over in Spain, and finally found her family within Saray. They’ve been inseparable ever since.

“You haven’t touched your donuts. Not hungry”

“Not that kind of hungry, _pero gracias gitana._ ” Zulema answers with a sigh, scanning her eyes through the donuts that she knew wouldn’t satiate what she craves for. Saray watches her friend carefully, the look in her eyes and the paleness of her face all too familiar by now.

“ _Joder_ , Zulema…when was the last time you got your sex mojo juice on?”

The brunette chuckles at her friend, as she always does when she would phrase Zulema’s physiological needs of a sex demon in her human slangs, all too adorable to be ignored. Saray was surely her soft spot.

“A while. Too long.”

“You look like you’re about to faint at any moment. That’s it, we’re going out tonight and you’re going to feed.”

Whenever Saray said something, it was written and done. Knowing she had no arguing in this matter and that her friend did have a solid point, she _needs_ to feed, Zulema simply nodded with her head as she grabbed both glasses from the marble counter, now empty, placing them on the dishwasher and making her way towards the stairs.

“I’m gonna start getting ready. Same place as always, I suppose?” Zulema asks as she makes her way up the stairs.

“You know it.”

* * *

**_“It is necessity and not pleasure that compels us.”_ **

_‘Divine Comedy’ by Dante Alighieri. Inferno, Song Xii, 87, 1321_

****

Macarena hits the bottom of the bourbon glass for the third time tonight, placing back the empty cup on the countertop of the bar as her eyes curiously scans around the crowded club.

She was nervous.

Macarena Ferreiro was the type of girl that probably won “most likely to settle down first” in a school yearbook. She was the golden child – the one who always did things by the book, always got good grades, a good boyfriend, a good life. And by good, for all that matters, meant nothing more than stable. Predictable. The type of things in which you can rely on not to change. The good boyfriend became a good husband, and like all good marriages, she had sex once a month and spent way too long apart from each other. She, as a good wife, made him breakfast every morning and ignored the flower-scented perfume that would hang around his shirt every Friday night when he came home late from work.

And it wasn’t until her good husband was packing his bags to leave their house and their marriage that she realized that a good life was never what she craved for.

 _“Did you ever want me?”_ He asked.

 _“I needed you.”_ She answered. They both knew what that answer meant. To need doesn’t mean that you desire it.

The fact Macarena knew she didn’t want him didn’t make it any less hard, for that matter. Hell, it makes it even harder. The blonde always did what she thought was the right thing to do, but what happens when you find out that the right thing and the wrong thing don’t really exist in the final sense of the word? What do you do when you find out that the world isn’t black and white, and in fact, it never was? Maca didn’t have any answers for the first time in her life. Maybe that’s the whole point of life, she’s starting to realize. To _not know_.

And it was with that thought that she found herself sitting in the bar of a club she never once stepped foot on, drinking bourbon instead of her preferred rosé wine, sitting in a stunning black satin dress that flowed down her body like it was made only for her to wear it. But still, she was nervous for the uncertainty of not knowing. Of not having the control.

Just as she decides to signal the bartender for another drink since her sobriety seems like it’s relentlessly fighting off the alcohol she’s drank so far, a figure appears right by her side, and like the atmosphere around her just shifted, all eyes laid down on the woman, including the man behind the bar and Macarena herself.

“Cepo, the usual for me.”

Macarena took in the sight of the woman in front of her. Raven hair down to her shoulders, black boots and what it seems like tailored black pants that fit her body so perfectly it almost looked too good to be true; her upper body sporting a see-through black shirt that clings to her body like a second skin and an unbuttoned black tailored blazer suit with its sleeves rolled up. That combined with the accessories that looked like it had cost a small fortune, specially the silver chain around her neck, made the woman look absolutely opulent. Like she owned the entire world and commanded every room she walked in. Maybe both things are indeed true, Macarena thinks to herself. Something about this woman tells her not to doubt it.

Zulema’s face finally turn to face Macarena’s and as their eyes lock, the beautiful woman flashes a smile at Macarena unlike any she has ever seen before. Her entire body shivers, like the woman’s mere presence requires her body to physically respond to it. She notices a black tear tattoo under one of her eyes, and the blonde never felt so intrigued about someone as she is right now by Zulema.

“And another round of whatever blondie here’s having, on my tab.”

Zulema’s words seems to finally break Macarena out of her trance, one she didn’t even fully realize she was. She clears her throat adverting her gaze from the woman feeling her cheeks burn like a child that has been caught staring, but she finds that she can’t keep her eyes away for too long and looks at Zulema in the eye again.

“T-thanks. For…the drink, that is.” Macarena manages to say, making Zulema chuckles as she bites her lip.

“No problem. I’m Zulema.”

“Zulema.” The word leaving the blonde’s mouth sound like a lullaby, and suddenly, she feels the need to say it over and over again. She doesn’t.

“I’m Macarena.”

“Macarena…” Zulema’s eyes go up and down the blonde’s body, and Maca can swear she can feel the woman’s gaze brush up against every inch of her skin. Their eyes meet again.

_“Como La Virgen de Macarena?”_

Maca chuckles at the comparison, remembering how that’s something she heard her whole life, especially since she always acted the part. Zulema’s amused look remains the same.

“Yeah. You got it.”

“Mhm...” Zulema sighs, finally sitting down on the seat besides Macarena on the bar. The brunette’s hand lightly brushes the blonde’s arm as she sits down, and Maca feels electricity spark through her body just by that simple touch, like she could feel every molecule of her body come to life. She doesn’t recall ever feeling like that. Zulema leans her face closer to Macarena’s, enough so she can feel the raven-haired’s breath lightly brush her cheek.

“ _Eres una chica Buena, Maca?_ _Like your name implies?”_

The question sends shivers down Macarena’s spine once again, warming her body on it’s way. If it was any other person asking her that, she wouldn’t hesitate to get up and leave. But something about the way Zulema asked and about Zulema herself felt so refreshingly unusual that Macarena found herself engaging in it without a question. She bites her lip.

“I thought I was for a long time.”

Cepo places their drinks on the counter, and Zulema grabs her glass bringing it to her lips as she takes a long sip of the tequila inside. Macarena mirrors it on her bourbon.

“And now?”

Macarena looks at Zulema’s eyes, trying to read the woman in front of her. The way her dark eyes held such a weight to it was something that kept screaming at Macarena that she was playing with danger. She wanted to run. Towards Zulema or away from her, she still hadn’t decided.

“Now I feel like dancing.”

Macarena hops off from the stool she was in previously, having made up her mind to run away and giving a try at ending the conversation. Part of her was screaming for her to run, and she listened. A flash of surprised appeared to flash through Zulema’s eyes but it went away as quick as it came. The woman hopped off the stool as well, reaching for the blonde woman and gently holding her hand.

“Dance with me.”

It wasn’t a question. Macarena could feel the heavy weigh of every letter of the sentence thrown at her, and she knows that she should feel scared. She knows that she should walk away. Like her survival instinct somehow was telling her that, even though there was no apparent logical reason for it. But appearances aren’t everything, as Macarena knows so well of.

And then, there was the other side of herself that felt like it was on a hot sunny day and Zulema was an Oasis in front of her. A mirage, something she desired so deeply, and as natural as it is to breathe, you approach the Oasis just like Macarena approached her body again towards Zulema’s direction. It was something bigger than rationality. Bigger than anything Macarena always felt, for that matter. For the first time, she wasn’t thinking. She wasn’t in control. And that felt so incredibly good.

They lock gazes again. Zulema looks at Macarena like she was the only person in the room, and as far as Macarena was concerned, Zulema was the only one too.

“Okay.” She answers, and Zulema smirks as she guides the blonde away from the bar and into the dance floor. The room was crowded and dense, and the song echoed around the four walls as red and blue lights flashed in the otherwise dark room. The song was slow and the notes were deep, and Zulema spun Macarena on her hold hugging her hips from behind, making Macarena’s breath shake and her chest tremble. She felt completely inebriated by Zulema and she didn’t want to feel anything else besides that.

**_Could you come in over, when it feels like lust?_ **

The song lyrics echoed through the room, and both of Zulema’s hands come to brush Macarena’s hair off her neck, exposing bare skin. Their bodies would swing ever so slightly to the rhythm of the song and Macarena can only feel Zulema’s touch behind herself instead of seeing, so she closes her eyes giving in completely to her other senses. Seconds after she feels her neck being exposed, a warm mouth comes into contact with her pulse point and a tongue darts out to lick the gentle skin anticipating the nibble that comes right after from Zulema’s part, making Macarena release a low moan that was muffled by the loud music.

Zulema steps forwards closing the space between them completely, her back glued to Macarena’s neck as her hands made their way from her hips to her waist, her kisses going up on the blonde’s neck until it reached her lobe.

“Zulema...” Maca whimpered, half a plea and half a moan. It was the most delicious thing Zulema has heard.

“Tell me what you _need_ , Rubia.” Zulema whispers.

“I need you…”

Zulema needed Macarena too. So, with that, the raven-haired devil spun Macarena around so she could face her, their faces mere inches apart.

“God, you’re so beautiful…” Macarena says, as her eyes ran over every detail of Zulema’s face. The demon knew she was, it was part of her nature. But still, hearing these words coming out of this woman’s mouth stirred something inside her, almost as if Macarena was working her own sort of spell on the woman as well. Zulema dismisses it quickly, thinking it is probably her hunger talking.

Zulema leans in, and Macarena lets her. The space between them two get smaller and smaller, until their lips brush and fireworks shoot behind Macarena’s eyes. They pull into a slow but deep kiss, Zulema’s tongue darting inside Macarena’s mouth like it was in no rush and wanted to taste every single inch of her. Then, Zulema deepens the kiss and it’s all _too much._ Their mouths sparks like it a current of electricity has just gone through it, and Zulema’s hand makes her way down Maca’s lower back as she pulls her body closer. Macarena’s hands instantly reach for Zulema’s body as well, one hand resting on the sea of raven locks as she other one wondered through the curves of her waist. Macarena feels lightheaded, in the best way. If angels could kiss, she was sure it would feel exactly like this. Or would it?

Angels don’t make you feel like giving into every desire of carnality.

Macarena breaks the kiss to Zulema’s surprise, and she opens her eyes just in time to catch a glimpse of blue energy leaving her body and getting into Zulema’s own, the raven-haired girl’s eyes sparkling a bright blue matching it. Macarena takes a deep breath, _am I hallucinating?_ She rubs her eyes for a second and opens them again. _You know you’re not._ Zulema’s eyes are staring back into hers still, the blueish glow now long gone, like it never happened.

It wasn’t the first time Zulema was caught in the middle of the act. Usually, some people would adventure opening their eyes and catch a glimpse of things they had yet come to understand. Neither of them ever asked any questions. Neither of them ever seemed to care, for all that matters. They cared more about the lust-driven state Zulema left them in than about Zulema herself.

However, no one has ever stopped her. Not even once. Zulema wasn’t even sure if that was even possible.

Macarena had just shown her that it was.

 _What at strange girl._ Zulema was expecting Macarena to run, to bombard her with questions, or anything of sorts. But it never came. Macarena’s eyes flashed with curiosity towards her, one that transcended the sexual lust drive. She was looking right through Zulema. It wasn’t a need-driven look. Zulema didn’t know how to deal with it.

Macarena stepped in once again, willingly placing a final kiss on the raven-haired woman’s lips.

And with that, Macarena stepped back from the demon and disappeared into the crowd leaving a disrupted Zulema behind.

•

The next week passes by as a haze for Zulema. She would constantly catch herself drifting off to the thoughts of blonde locks, replaying the scenario of that night inside her head repeatedly. Zulema, as any sex demon, didn’t feed off of people’s energy because she felt pleasure in doing so. It was her nature. Even though she thrived on sexual energy to stay alive, it was never about pleasure for Zulema. It was about need. She needed to feed, and she did it accordingly. And like the cycle of need works time and time again, when you satisfy what it craves for the need goes away. It’s cyclic. Like an animal that haunts its prey. When your need compels you to do something, it is rare the occasions in which you can actually derive pleasure from it. She didn’t fuck people because she wanted them. She did it because she needed it.

Zulema’s targets were nothing more than that, preys. She would use them, and the need would be satisfied. But what Macarena made her feel was not like anything else she had experienced before. Zulema was never a person to remember people’s faces before a night of hunting. But why didn’t Macarena apply to any of her rules? She simply couldn’t get the woman off her mind. How do you deal with a desire that, unlike a need, won’t go away?

All she knew is that she wanted to see the blonde again.

•

Friday night, the clock stroke 9pm and Zulema had just received a text message from Saray explaining that she was stuck at work yet again. She grabs her phone to type in her response.

**[Zulema] Fuck, I’m sorry Saray. I hope he doesn’t keep you in for much longer.**

**[Saray] If nothing more comes up I’ll be out the office in 5. Wanna go out to dinner?**

**[Zulema] I made you some food, it’s in the oven ready to heat. I’m going out.**

**[Saray] Out? Are you hungry again?**

She wasn’t. Usually, after a good night out she would be fine for at least the next two weeks. But she wanted to see Macarena again. She had no way of knowing if the blonde would be there, she was a local on that pub and she knew it was the blonde’s first time. Whenever she preys on a first timer, they never come back. But Zulema had a gut feeling that Macarena was not like anyone else for that matter.

 **[Zulema] No.** **I just have some things to sort it out.**

And by things, Zulema meant a beautiful and maddening human blonde. And by sort it out, well… she actually had no idea just yet.

**[Saray] Be careful, vale? don’t do anything I wouldn’t.**

**[Zulema] I think that’s a bit difficult of a promise to make, gitana. With the whole demon thing and what not.**

**[Saray] I know you, Zulema. And my little spider senses tell me that what you’re doing tonight has nothing to do with your supernatural self. Watch out for the blondes, they’re always the dangerous ones. ;)**

Zulema chuckles at her friends’ response. _Of course she noticed._

She drops her phone on the couch again and makes her way upstairs to get herself ready for the night.

•

Macarena hits the bottom of the bourbon glass for the third time tonight, placing back the empty cup on the countertop of the bar as her eyes curiously scans around the crowded club.

She was nervous.

The entire situation feels like a dèja-vú, but not only Macarena’s dress was now a cotton red one that hugged her curves in contrast to the flowy black satin one from last week, she was also a very different person than the one she was last Friday.

Macarena Ferreiro used to be the good girl. The do-right-by girl. But the Macarena inside of herself now wants nothing more than to throw herself in a deep sea of all things uncertain. She couldn’t stop thinking Zulema.

She didn’t know if she’d run into her again, but something inside her was telling her that she was. She knew that, whatever happened between them both last Friday, got inside the woman’s mind – could she call her a woman? What exactly is she? – just as much as it had gotten inside hers. She could see it in her eyes as she walked away that she was not used to feel like she was feeling with Macarena. She really wanted that to be true.

“Your curiosity could kill you, you know.” A velvety deep voice sounds from behind her, and Macarena turns around in her stool to find Zulema standing a few meters away from her. She bites her lip at the sight; Zulema was now wearing combat boots, tight black denim pants and a black satin button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the chest buttons of the shirt undone while the same silver chain from the other time hanged around her neck and down her cleavage. They lock eyes.

“I’m aware.”

Zulema steps closer to Macarena, stopping right in front of the blonde woman who was still sat down. She reaches for the counter behind Macarena, leaning both her hands on each side of the blonde’s body and trapping her inside her embrace. Macarena doesn’t flinch, and she leans in.

“Tell me what you want.”

Macarena reaches for Zulema’s ear. She whispers.

“I want you to take me home.”

* * *

**_“One ought to be afraid of nothing other than things possessed of power to do us harm, but things innocuous need not be feared.”_ **

_‘Divine Comedy’ by Dante Alighieri. Inferno, Song ii, 2.88._

The ride back to Zulema’s place was of a dense silence, filling the atmosphere with all of the things still unsaid between the two women. As they finally pull by the driveway, Zulema reaches for Macarena’s hands, leading her inside. She unlocks the door and makes her way in, noticing the place is dark and quiet, no sign of Saray being at home. They leave their coats by the entrance and she motions for Macarena to follow her as she makes her way into the kitchen.

“Wine?” Zulema asks as she opens up her fridge, and Macarena nods positively. Zulema takes the bottle out of the container, and just as she closes its doors again, she notices a post it glued on one of its sides.

**_The house is all yours. Xx_ **

Zulema smiles.

She takes out two glasses and pours the alcohol inside, bringing it to Macarena who’s standing up with her body leaned against the kitchen aisle, observing her every move in the same time as she tries to take in everything about the Zulema’s home, curious eyes wandering every now and them. The brunette stops in front of her, passing her one of the glasses.

“What are you, Zulema?” Macarena finally asks.

“Ah…The million-dollar question.” Zulema answers with a chuckle. “I’m a succubus…A sex demon, in simpler terms.”

“Oh.” _That explains a lot,_ Macarena thinks.

“Yeah, I know.” Zulema answers, as if she somehow read the blonde’s mind. _Can demons do that?_ Macarena wonders. She scolds herself for her trail of thought. _It doesn’t take a genius to make the right assumption of what you thought._

“And what do you do, exactly?”

“Well…” Zulema swings the liquid from her glass down her throat, placing the empty object on the counter as she once again mirrors her previous move from earlier tonight, leaning both her arms on the kitchen aisle on each side of Macarena and trapping her there. The blonde takes a deep breath.

“I could just show you.” Zulema purrs, and she brings one of her hands off from the kitchen counter and into Macarena’s bare thigh as she keeps looking at the blonde in the eye, not missing the way they widen at first contact. “That’s what you want, no?”

“Yes…” Macarena breathes out, feeling Zulema’s hands slowly travel upwards on her outer thigh and making her skin tingle. The demon leans in to reach for the blonde woman’s ear.

“Close your eyes… can you feel what my hands are doing?” Zulema’s hand comes to a halt just right at the hem of Macarena’s dress, where exposed skin comes to an end. The blonde does as told and focus on the feeling of Zulema’s hand on her skin, feeling the course of electricity going through her entire body like it was slowly setting it on fire. She nods with her head, unable to form any words at the feeling.

“I can manipulate your vital energy… make you feel pleasure. Lust. Desire…”

Macarena hums amused, eyes still closed as she kept focusing on the feeling of her body and the warmth of Zulema’s hand on her thigh.

“What do you feel when you do that?” She asks, eyes lazily opening to meet with brown ones that are now away from her neck and directed towards herself.

“It’s primal for me. It comes natural, a necessity…”

“Do you need me?” Macarena asks. Zulema bites her lip.

“I want you.”

Macarena’s eyes switch between Zulema’s eyes and lips. She leans closer, subconsciously.

“What happens when you kiss me?”

Zulema leans closer as well.

“Let’s come upstairs and I’ll show you.”

Macarena swings down the wine from her cup, dropping it on her counter as well as she follows Zulema upstairs to her bedroom. Just as they get inside the room, Zulema closes the door and backs Macarena against the foot of the bed, motioning for her to lay down on the sheets, and Macarena obeys. Suddenly, Zulema crawls on top of the bed and into the blonde’s lap, sitting there as one of her hands reaches for blonde locks.

“That same energy you felt me manipulate is what keeps you alive, and it’s what I feed of as well. When I kiss you…” Zulema leans in, their lips so close to each other that they can feel it almost touching. Zulema closes the distance, finally sealing their lips for a slow kiss, the blue glow in her eyes coming alive once again as she starts feeding off of Macarena. The blonde opens her eyes as best as she can, looking at Zulema on top of her as she gradually breaks the kiss and the last flows of blue energy enter the demon’s body and her eyes go back to normal again. “When I kiss you, I’m sucking it away.”

“Are you scared?” Zulema asks.

“No…”

“I can hurt you badly if I don’t control it.”

“Do you want to hurt me?” Macarena asks back.

“No.”

“Then I’m not scared.” 

That’s all she needed to hear.

Zulema resumes kissing Macarena harder this time, electricity erupting from their bodies as they finally give in to absolute pleasure. Zulema was hungry, but for the first time, it wasn’t literal. She craved Macarena like a human craves to give into carnal pleasures. Macarena felt the same.

Their tongues explored each other intensely, and Macarena wanted nothing more in the world than to feel Zulema’s lips on her forever. The demon brings her kisses down the blonde’s jaw and into her neck, licking and biting and tasting every inch of skin in her path as she made her down Macarena’s chest. She places open mouth kisses on her collarbone, reaching towards the center as her hands worked on sliding Macarena’s dress straps down her shoulders.

She looks up at blonde’s lustful eyes, and slowly slides her dress down exposing Macarena’s breasts. Zulema wastes no time in giving them the proper attention, bringing one mouth to lick around one of her nipples as her other hand gave the second breast the attention it also needed. She felt the blonde beneath her shiver and whimper in desire, and seeing Macarena in pleasure because of her was slowly becoming a drug. She needed more.

She brings her mouth to the other nipple giving it the same treatment as the first one, kissing it like nothing else mattered right now but the sounds Macarena was making for her. And it really didn’t. Zulema brings her hands to the hem of the dress again, and stars sliding it down further and further with the help of Macarena’s arched back for her.

For each part of skin newly revealed, Zulema would waste no time in kissing it. She stops when the dress reaches the height of Macarena’s waist, and she brings her torso back up to observe the sight beneath her. The blonde was flustered and her chest was rising and falling in a rapid manner, her mouth agape as those deep green eyes stared back at her.

“Fuck...” Zulema whimpers at the sight. This woman will be the death of her.

And she loves it.

She brings her torso back down, kissing Macarena once again in the same time as she readjusts her position so that her knee is pressing down between Maca’s center, and the blonde lets out a moan against Zulema’s mouth. The brunette can’t help but notice the way Macarena feels hot against her clothed knee and it sends a shiver down between her own legs at the thought of Macarena already so wet for her. She wants to feel it.

Zulema removes her knee from between Macarena’s legs, and the blonde breaks the kiss in protest.

“Please...”

The desperate look in her eyes is quick to disappear as she feels Zulema’s knee being replaced by a brush of long fingers against the fabric of her panties, and Macarena’s hips roll unconsciously against the touch, wanting more. Needing more.

Zulema’s fingers move up and down against her clit from the top of her panties, and every single stroke’s intensity is elevated to infinity for Macarena because of the power the succubus’ touch holds. She moans loudly and her eyes roll back, feeling her underwear get soaked by Zulema’s touch and her clit pulse, desperately in need for _more_. Macarena’s hands come to meet Zulema’s pulse, and as she motions for the woman that she wants more, Zulema stops. She grabs both of Macarena’s hands and pin them on top of her head, leaning in to brush her lip against the younger woman’s ones teasingly.

“Touch me...” The blonde pleads. Zulema’s tongue darts out to lick at Macarena’s lower lip, sucking it in between her lips as she releases it with a gentle bite.

“No. I’m going to taste you.”

Macarena’s eyes darken at the sound of these words, her body shivering instantly at the thought of raven locks in between her thighs. Zulema releases Macarena from her grip, bringing her mouth to the blonde’s neck and sucking her pulse point. She starts her trail down the blonde’s body again, but this time she has no intention of stopping. Down her kisses go, tongue trailing and licking and tasting and leaving a whimpering Macarena shivering in anticipation. Once she finally reaches her waist, Zulema brings her hands to the red fabric, sliding it down completely from the woman’s body and now the only barrier between them are Macarena’s black lace panties.

Zulema kooks her two thumbs in the black fabric, sliding it down slowly until, finally, Macarena’s glistening sex was exposed to her. She wanted to paint the picture in front of her in her mind forever; Macarena naked, legs spread open and ready for her.

Zulema positions herself between the blonde’s legs, kissing Macarena’s inner thighs until she finally reached her center.

“Zulema...” Macarena moans, rolling her hips forward.

The succubus wastes no more time. Passionately, she slides her tongue upwards on Macarena’s pussy drinking all of her honey until her lips close around her clit, sucking it inside her mouth. Macarena didn’t know she could moan so loud, but then again, she didn’t know someone could make her feel this good.

She was sleeping with danger, and she never wanted to be good ever again.

Macarena’s hands come to hold Zulema’s head in between her legs, gripping on the sucubbus’ hair as she urges for Zulema’s mouth and her pussy to become one. Zulema keeps working her tongue around her clit and her whole body feels like it’s alive only to make the blonde woman cum for her. She brings her right hand below her chin, teasing the woman’s entrance. Macarena wonders if her touch would feel so explosive inside of her as it feels on her skin, and her questions are quick to cease as Zulema slides two fingers inside of her with ease.

It’s not like the touch on her body.

It’s infinitely better.

“Holy fuck...”

“Not that holy, rubia.” Zulema whispers as she looks up, her breath tickling on the blonde’s sensitive clit and her fingers still inside of her. As she holds the blonde’s gaze on her, her fingers come to life in a curling motion inside Macarena.

Macarena screams more than she moans, melting even more in Zulema’s touch as the succubus resumes her tongue’s work from a few moments ago. Zulema licks and kisses and touches in all the right places – she knows that she does, and Macarena’s already trembling body is confirmation of so. The blonde’s legs come to wrap around Zulema, wanting her impossibly closer and not wanting for her to ever stop fucking her _so fucking good._ Good in the baddest way there is.

Macarena is so close, and her orgasm stars building on her like a tsunami starts forming, ready to come crashing down devastatingly hard. All she needs is _one last push-_

 _“_ Be bad for me, Macarena” Zulema whispers as she presses down hard on her g-spot, and the blonde is over and done with.

Macarena’s vision is is pitch black, and her mouth falls open but no sound comes out. Her entire body tenses up like it’s getting ready to release a burst of energy from her muscles and finally, her orgasm hits her. _Hard_.

“Fuck! Yes! ”

Waves of pleasure come crashing and Macarena rides the shockwaves of the best orgasm of her life. Her body is shaking and trembling and sweating and Zulema drowns herself in every single drop of Macarena’s arousal, feeling her own body pulse with desire for Macarena. She was a drug and Zulema was hooked. Once she finally feels the blonde’s body calm down and her orgasm cease, she removes herself from inside Macarena as the woman releases a whimper, already missing Zulema inside of her.

The succubus brings her fingers to her mouth, licking them clean and cleaning her mouth with the back of her tongue like she has just eaten the meal of a lifetime. She shifts positions so she’s back on top of Macarena again, leaning in and kissing the blonde woman making her taste herself on the devil’s tongue.

“What are you going to do now that you’re bad, _Rubita_?” Zulema purrs in their kiss. Macarena breaks the contact of her lips to look at the demon in the eyes.

“I don’t know...” Suddenly, Macarena flips their position in bed so that a surprised and amused Zulema is now below her. The blonde smirks.

“But it definitely won’t be boring.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m @sapphiczule on twitter if you wanna come and say hi!


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